


Corporal Punishment

by Nestri



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Off-screen Spanking, Kid Tony Stark, Past Child Abuse, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24413404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nestri/pseuds/Nestri
Summary: “This time I told him I’d tan his hide if he kept acting up. He’s just upset I gave him what was comin’.”“What?”----Steve has some old-fashioned notions about discipline. When Bruce finds out he is not happy.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 154





	Corporal Punishment

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what possessed me to write this. There is pretty much 0 explanation for most of this. 
> 
> **Fair Warning** Fic is Anti-Spanking. Take that as you will.

Tony is a sweet kid. A little shy and timid but trusting all the same.

Bruce is surprised with how much he enjoys spending time with his de-aged friend. He’s made a habit to avoid children but he’s found himself surprisingly comfortable with watching over the 4 year old.

He holds Tony’s hand in his as they walk towards the communal living room.

Steve’s sitting on the couch watching a baseball game but he looks up when he hears them approach.

“Good Morning,” he says with a smile lighting up his blue eyes.

“Good Morning,” Bruce replies as he helps Tony sit on the couch. The child’s feet barely stretch to the end of the cushion.

“ Mor’in Mr. Steve.” Tony gives him a small wave. Steve reaches over to ruffle Tony’s hair causing him to giggle. Bruce crouches in front of Tony and rests a hand on his tiny ankle.

“Tony I’m leaving now but Mr. Steve will take good care of you. I should be back in time for your nap,” Then to Steve he says, “Lunch is in a few hours. We should have some leftover Mac & Cheese.”

“I know,” Steve smiles, “we’ll be fine.”

His knees protest as he stands up. He’s never been in peak physical health but new aches and pains have come with aging.

His consultation meeting on Nuclear Physics could have gone better. The conference room was filled with a cast of characters including; a man looking fresh out of puberty that kept interrupting him with question, an older man, grey around the temples, loudly clearing his throat anytime he disagreed with something Bruce said, and a woman nodding off, occasionally waking herself up with a snort.

All in all, Bruce is on edge. So much so that he wonders if he should bypass seeing Tony altogether. He pulls out his phone to call Steve.

It goes straight to voicemail three times. Bruce sighs, he already feels guilty about leaving Tony longer than he’d promised. The image of Tony’s shy smile, his cheeks plump with baby fat and eyes wider than the moon gazing up at him in admiration helps calm him.

Bruce runs through his breathing exercises as he ascends. He reaches each level with a sharp ding and it helps ground him until most of his tension has melted away.

When the doors open Bruce is almost blown back by the sound of someone crying hysterically. He rushes out of the elevator and spots Tony, sitting cross legged on the floor facing the wall.

Tony is shaking with loud, screaming cries. Bruce quickly makes his way over to the corner Tony sits in. Bruce crouches beside him and goes to put a hand on his shoulder.

He retracts his hand when Tony flinches away. He sits beside Tony, about to ask him what’s wrong when Steve approaches them.

“Oh hey, Bruce.” He’s drying his hands on a towel, a few suds stick to his shirt.

“You didn’t hear him crying?” Bruce snaps. Sure, Steve doesn’t have a lot of experience with children but Bruce thought he could at least trust him to comfort Tony when the child needed it.

“Yes?” Steve looks confused. Bruce turns back to Tony before he loses it.

“Are you hurt?” Tony’s fists are jammed into his eyes as he sobs. He doesn’t respond. Bruce turns to Steve again, impatiently waiting for an answer.

“He was acting up so I punished him.” Steve explains.

“What happened?” He has to raise his voice just to hear himself over the sobbing. He’s never seen Tony cry like this. Even when he has a nightmare or when he fell into the coffee after running too fast.

“He kept throwing his broccoli on the ground,” Steve says as if it explains everything. He wants to question Steve on why he made broccoli when there was plenty of Mac & Cheese leftover but there are more pressing issues currently.

“How long has he been in timeout?”

“A couple minutes.” Bruce finds that hard to believe. He’d put Tony in timeout before and he’s never reacted like this. Tony seems to exhaust himself and the loud sobbing peters off. He hiccups as he cries quieter.

Bruce coaxes him onto his lap and Tony goes with little fuss. Tony digs his face into Bruce’s shirt, leaving it wet with tears.

Bruce stands up with Tony tucked into his embrace.

“He’s never been this upset before.”

“This time I told him I’d tan his hide if he kept acting up. He’s just upset I gave him what was comin’.”

Bruce whites out. His brain is buzzing flies pushing racing blood through his ears.

_“What?”_ is all Bruce can think to say.

“Did you want any broccoli? We had leftovers.”

“No Steve. I don’t want any fucking brocolli.” Steve’s eyes brows shoot up. It’s not often Bruce curses.

“Do we have a Code Green on our hands?”

Bruce breathes in deeply, remembering he has a young child in his arms. Who’s still shaking and crying softly. Damn.

“Not by a long shot. I’m not explaining this to you right now. Do you even know how hard you hit him?”

“Not even that hard.” Steve scoffs.

“Yea because you’re so good at pulling your strength.” Bruce bites. Steve gives him a hurt look.

“I’m going to give him a bath and put him down for a nap. Then we need to talk about this.”

“Well alright,” It comes out as a question as Steve furrows his brow in confusion. Bruce marches away to the guest bathroom on the floor.

“Do you need to potty?” Bruce says gently. Tony’s sniffling quietly but he isn’t crying anymore.

Tony nods against his shoulder. Bruce places him on the toilet and lets him do this business. Bruce starts the bath and the steady stream of water helps calm the anger burning in his gut. He adds in some bubble bath soap for good measure.

Tony flushes by himself and Bruce pushes the stool in front of the sink so he can wash his hands.

“Good job buddy.” Bruce kneels to help Tony get undressed. Bruce hisses when he sees Tony’s bare bottom that’s bright red. He puts Tony in the bath and grabs a soft cloth.

As he washes Tony he asks, “Why were you throwing broccoli on the floor?”

Tony’s mashing the bubbles in his hands.

“The table didn’t work.” Tony huffs and continues to sweep his hands through the water.

“You were putting them on the table?” Tony nods.

“Then Mr. Steve put ‘em back on the plate so I droppeded them.” Bruce supposes that makes sense in a childlike way. Knowing kids, he’s not surprised that Tony wasn’t a fan of vegetables.

“Did you tell Mr. Steve that you didn’t like them?”

“I like them. They just make me i’chy.”

“Itchy?” Bruce says mildly panicked.

Tony nods again and rubs his suds covered hands over his throat, “I’chy”

“Tony are you allergic to broccoli?”

“What’s ‘lergic?” Bruce pauses. He’s used to speaking in simpler terms with less experienced people in his field of study but racks his brain on how to explain allergies to a child.

“Allergic means there are unsafe foods that can make you very sick. Broccoli is one of the foods that make you sick, so we aren’t going to eat that anymore. If you eat something and your tummy hurts or you feel funny, let a grown up know right away. ”

Tony’s face scrunches up as he thinks to himself quietly. Almost a minute passes until he looks up at Bruce.

“Ok!”

Bruce smiles back at him and gently washes Tony’s face, getting rid of the tear tracks and snot.

Once done, Bruce picks Tony up and wraps him in a towel to fry him. The walk to the guest bedroom is filled with Tony raving about the bath he just had, how fun the bubbles are, asking if next time he can use the wall crayons.

Relieved that Tony’s no longer upset, he sets Tony on the bed as he rifles through the dresser.

“Alright buddy. Spaceships or robots?” He holds up two pairs of pajamas.

“Spacesips!” Tony says instantly. Bruce can’t help but chuckle. Ironically, Tony always chooses spaceships over robots.

He helps Tony get dressed and then tucks him under the covers. He brushes a hand through Tony’s brown curls then goes to leave. Bruce flips the overhead light switch off, The night light plug gently illuminates the room.

Tony’s breathing has already evened out. Bruce returns to the common area. Steve’s sitting on the couch, lost in thought.

“Is everything alright?” Steve asks. He sits up straighter once he sees his teammate approach. He looks mildly concerned.

“Apparently Tony is allergic to broccoli.” Bruce begins. Steve opens his mouth to speak but Bruce cuts him off, “I don’t think he even knows why he got punished.”

Steve holds up his hands in a placating manner, “I didn’t know. He should’ve just told me.”

“He’s four. He just learned what an allergy is.” Steve says in defense.

“Bruce listen-”

“No you listen. I know you came from the forties but parents don’t really do this anymore. It’s not effective and if you were mad? Well that’s-”

“I’m not my father!” Steve explodes, standing up, and Bruce takes a step back from the force of it. His eyebrows shoot up once he’s realized what Steve just said.

“I’m not my father either.” Bruce says quietly. The room is eerily silent as they both take each other in. Steve drops back onto the couch.

“I’ll talk to him when he wakes up.” Steve’s voice is low and dismissing. Bruce knows he gets like this when he needs space. With a sigh, Bruce heeds his request and goes to do some work in R&D. He sets his alarm for 40 minutes.

At the 30 minute mark Steve calls him. A petty part of him wants to let it go to voicemail. The kinder, diplomatic side urges him to answer.

“Hello?”

“He’s awake.” Steve sounds mildly panicked. Bruce instantly puts his project on hold and travels to the guest floor.

Steve sits beside Tony on the couch. The child is dramatically recounting the dream he just had, with added gestures and sound effects. Steve gives him a strained smile, looking up in relief when Bruce arrives.

Steve doesn’t waste time. He slides onto the floor into a crouch so he’ll be eye level with Tony.

“I have something I want to talk to you about. Is that ok?” He says seriously. Tony nods his head once, looking to Bruce in confusion.

Bruce sits on the couch beside Tony and smiles at him fondly.

“I’m sorry I hit you. I didn’t know you were allergic. But either way I shouldn’t have punished you like that.” Steve takes awkward pauses between his words, as if thinking hard about what he wants to say next. He looks up at Bruce, silently asking for reassurance and Bruce gives him a soft look.

“That’s ok, Mr. Steve!” Tony says.

Steve opens his arms invitingly, clenching his jaw nervously. Tony practically falls into his chest as they hug. After a moment, he gently lets go of Tony and stands up. Steve makes a show of looking at his wrist, which is devoid of a watch.

“It looks like it’s play time. But who will play with me?” Steve says dramatically.

Tony flaps his arm about, “Me me!! I gots blocks!” Then he scrambles off the couch to grab his box of Lincoln Logs from the spare bedroom.

Steve turns toward Bruce, a sheepish look on his face, for once looking as young as his actual age.

“Good job, buddy.” He can’t resist as he stands on his tiptoes to rub a hand through Steve’s hair good naturedly.

Steve laughs.

“Thanks,” he says more seriously.

“Anytime.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment.


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